


Only for a Moment (Beguilement)

by Kikiro (kikirochan)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bulges and Nooks, Idfk anymore, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, send help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikirochan/pseuds/Kikiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One prisoner with eyes the shade of red. The same red the runs in your veins. A gift from a newly achieved alliance. But it seems he is not what you thought he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck am i doing with my life. i have. like. thousands of other stories i need to be working on and then i pop this shit out of my head.
> 
> stop me. kill me. before i make more.
> 
> p.s. i might never finish this so be warned. but comments and kudos keep me motivated (even if they motivate me into making/working on other stories)

You listen carefully as the delegate goes over the alliance treaty.

Meenah, The Empress of Beforus, Her Imperious Condescension, decided that she wanted to have a friendship with you, or at least your kingdom. She even had Aranea Serket, the Beforan ambassador, write some things up. You didn’t really care for the whole ‘friendship’ thing Serket was spewing but your advisors told you it might be a good idea considering how Skaia’s new king seemed to be gearing for war.

Apparently the empress believes slaves are acceptable as gifts and will send you some of her prisoners to choose to your liking. Once they are across your border, you can do anything you like to your ‘gifts’. You may just indulge her instead of killing them all in some spectacular display of malicious intent designed to keep your people in line.

One of the things you agreed to was the meeting of both you and her. Some time when it is convenient, of course; it would have to be soon. It’s only natural to want that. To show to your people that the both of you are friends.

You try to make sure you are not falling asleep, adjusting yourself in your chair, sitting up straighter. Good lot that would do, snoozing in the middle of something as important as this. Not like you haven't done that before, but this is different, it’s more important. This alliance might mean the difference between life or death for the majority of your people.

It was agreed that both parties had to have witnesses to the signing; Serket for the empress, and for you, your own ambassador to Beforus, Feferi Peixes. You chose Feferi because you thought it would be funny to have someone of the same blood caste as the empress sign the document. Even if the two of your kingdoms run on the complete opposite system. That is, fuschia blood is not seen as a royal or noble color for trolls to have in your kingdom. Following that being, of course, violet to purple, to indigo, to cobalt, teal, jade, and so on and so forth. Serket being cobalt and in the middle of the spectrum is only a pleasantry for your troll population.

Aranea slides the treaty to you and you take your quill from the polished wood, dab the tip into the well of blood you use to sign important shit like this, and sign your name next to Meenah’s.

  
KARKAT VANTAS  
ADORABLOODTHIRSTY  
KING OF ALTERNIA  


  
meenah peixes  
her imperious condescension  
empress of beforus  


  
Aranea Serket  


  
Feferi Peixes  



	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you missed it, the roles of trolls are kinda switched? so instead of fuschia, purple, and violet being the high and mighty rulers of alternia, its the maroon, brown, and yellow bloods. but everything is still the same in beforus. 
> 
> also there are several kingdoms with their own culture and native peoples. carapacians come from skaia, humans from prospit and derse, and trolls from beforus and alternia. the basic stuff.

It’s been about two weeks since you signed the alliance treaty and if it weren't for the few stuck up nobles with cool colored blood that came into your castle, you would never remember that it even happened.

Why they have to try to get your attention all by themselves is the biggest mystery. You would have yelled at them for wearing noble clothing if they didn’t wear Meenah’s crest on their chests. These nooksuckers think they can come in here and just boss people around with no regard for what your carefully sculpted society is like. It might give your servants the wrong idea.

Seriously, can’t they learn to address you when you have open visitation or, if it’s more urgent, during council? For fucks sake, you have council everyday, first thing after breakfast. Is it really that hard to attend??

But this one. This cute little Olive blood. She isn’t a noble. Her garments are those of a messengers. So maybe she’s from your kingdom? It’s a shame really; if she weren’t as low on the hemospectrum as she was, she would make for a beautiful queen.

“There has been a delivery for you, your majesty!” She practically purrs, or maybe she actually is? Holy shit, no, yep, she is really purring in that chittery way all trolls do.

A delivery? “From whom?” You don’t recall ordering anything for yourself so maybe it’s a gift from someone else? God damn it, do you really have to make sure people know to tell you if they are going to send you something.

“The empress, Her Imperious Condescension, Meenah Peixes, your majesty.” She said with a curt bow, smile wavering a little bit under your gaze.

You hum and walk past her still bowing form. From Meenah, huh? You remember something about her sending you something pertaining to the alliance treaty, but you can’t for the life of you remember what it was…

When you get to the hallway leading outside where packages were unloaded out of the eyes of your subjects, you remember what it was, or rather, you see what it was you were supposed to remember. There are trolls, carapacians, and humans alike, at least ten of each race, all shackled together in rows of three, dressed in rags.

It’s not like the sight of them hurts you, no, what kind of king would you be if the sight of prisoners made you feel pity. Even if they were malnourished, dirty, bruised.

Urgh.

There are warm colored trolls as well as cool colored trolls. Ok, so you know Meenah didn’t discriminate on the hemospectrum. You have to find out what they did before you get the idea of releasing, killing, or employing any of them.

Now that you know what the delivery was you guess you’ll get ready for them to be shown off to you. Cause this is how it is supposed to go. Urgh.

You're not actually opposed to the idea of prisoners. But at least you have the decency to take care of them. No matter what the rumors of you are.

You sit in your extravagant throne that can easily seat two people, it’s plated in gold, the cushions the same color as your blood; cherry red. The arms of the chair are low enough at the ends you could easily just lay down and sleep here if it weren’t so uncomfortable. Instead you just lean on the upper part of the arm the curves up to shoulder height before curving again into the high back, and cross your legs.

It’s not too long before the same olive blooded messenger from the hallway earlier comes into the room to announce to you who the gift is from and what it is; all for the formality, of course. You frown and wave your hand at her. She immediately shuts up and signals for the prisoners to be dragged out. Quite literally, and none too softly. One line of the prisoners trips and almost falls face first with one shove.

You scowl at the guard. Though, it does look like you're looking at the prisoners, some of them shrink into themselves.

When they’re all made to line up in front of you (damn that’s a lot of people), you know you have to decide what to do with them. And here comes Sollux, your advisor, to tell you what you should and shouldn't do which you're probably not going to listen to. The only reason he is still around is because he’s not afraid to tell you off. It’s not like you’ll do anything about his mouth; he’s been your friend for as long as you can remember.

He tells you that you should let the carapacians go, that it will keep the new king of Skaia from getting mad for killing his people that he didn’t even know weren’t his people. Of course, some of them might be, but you don’t know that. So you decide that is a good call and order your guards to release the carapacians at the border; if they’re going to die, it won’t be by your hand.

This leaves the humans and trolls. You ask Sollux if he knows anything about why the fuck the trolls were prisoners anyway and he says he “has no fucking idea.” in his stupid lisp. You ask him if there might be any repercussions for killing the mid-bloods and just shrugs.

“Take the trolls to the prison.” you order the guards. They escort the prisoners out just as harshly, if not more.

Now it’s just the humans. You don’t have too much of a heart for the humans despite allowing refugees from Prospit and Derse. Those two kingdoms, wow, they’re very idealistic in pretty much everything, from how someone looks to what religion they practice. Then again, it’s not like you didn’t ban the public practice of a certain cult.

One human catches your eye. Hair so white it could compete with the fluffy clouds in the sky. His skin so pale that you could pick out the bruises and freckles on the exposed inches from as far away as you were. But what drew you in were the eyes. Red. So red. If you were to bleed on his face, you wonder, would you be unable to tell his eyes from your blood?

“Him.” You whisper to Sollux, pointing at the piercing eyes that won’t look away from yours. It feels like a challenge.

Sollux nods and walks down the stairs from your throne, tells a guard something. The guard releases the one prisoner from the shackles, without looking away from you, and leads your new toy out of the room.

The rest of the humans will be put to work as slaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, comments?


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled: an attempt was made

He’s shorter than you. Then again, trolls can be known to grow twice the size of the tallest human. So maybe he is average height, only about two feet shorter than you; you guesstimated based on the size of the trolls tending to him. You didn’t stick around too long, just to make sure he was being treated with utmost care, lest you need to punish anyone who would hurt him. Your presence is enough to deter him harm.

Never let it be said that the great Karkat Vantas wasn’t kind.

This will be your first personal slave. You debate whether you will start a harem. If you do, you will need to have a room set aside for them. Well, for right now, he will just have to stay in your room.

Now you are sitting with your council. Tavros, the commander of the royal army, your army, stands, offers to take some prisoners off your hands. Probably in response to some rumors of new troll prisoners that might have been spreading around the castle. You accept his offer knowing full well that the warmer blood trolls could achieve a noble status while all of them could gain knighthood. This lets you forget about needing to find a place for them.

Reports say that the king of Skaia had begun executing disloyal peasants and nobles alike. From your understanding of how a kingdom is run, you know that what the king is doing is not going to be good for his country and may even end with him having more enemies than friends at the end of it. You decide that it would be wise to reject all Skaians except for refugees, humans, trolls, and carapacians alike.

 

* * *

 

  
He is sitting in a cage that he won't be able to stand up in, making him have to crawl in and out. There are a few blankets and pillows for a comfortable pile to sleep in and keep warm.

You select an adjustable collar, a chain that’s not too thick but won’t break easily, a metal rod to attach to the collar to keep him a fixed certain distance away that is shaped like a human’s monadnock baton. Some matching cuffs to keep him restrained just in case, and a whip. You won’t use him yet, but you will see how well he can perform.

His clean hair seems even whiter than before somehow, bruises more pronounced. He could almost be naked with how little the clothing covers him; just a chain with gold threads draping over his chest to cover the useless nubs humans have, a few threads on his hips holding up a cloth to cover his nether region from the front and back. The cloth itself is, of course, the same color as your blood. While the red and gold scheme feels overused, you think it looks fitting on him.

You unhook your slim cape from your shoulders and toss it onto a chair you pulled up, next is your red tailcoat with its gold chains and embroidery, folding it neatly, setting it on the top of a dresser. You pick up the collar and meander over to the cage holding your toy, unlock the door, and place the cool leather around his neck. You’ll let him come out on his own, no need to force him, but you still keep a loose hold on the chain, sitting on the edge of the chair.

He slowly crawls out, beautiful red eyes darting in the direction of the door as if making sure an exit is possible before he can figure out if, or when, to make a break for it. Not that he would succeed, but it’s the thought of an unbroken mind, which you will need to take care of. You tighten your grip on the chain leash as you give a quick tug urging him closer to you. His eyes keep on you from then on, examining every inch of your monochrome clothing.

When he is close enough you take a shorter grasp of the leash, which seems to frighten him if him recoiling and wide eyes are anything to go by. At least he must know to fear you, that’s good. That will make it all the easier for you.

You manage to undo the button and zipper of your pants, your toy watching with held breath, and shimmy your pants and undergarments down to pool at your ankles. He looks curiously at your nether regions, you use your free right hand to coax an arousal, the seemingly smooth surface of skin parting as your bulge unsheathes. You let yourself twist around your fingers as you use your other hand to cup your toy’s cheek, bringing his face closer between your legs.

Your bulge pushes against his cheek leaving a trail of red lubricant from the corner of his mouth and almost to his ear. He pulls out of your grasp with a terrified look on his face and you quickly grab his hair at the bangs with enough force to cause him to cry in pain. You use this chance to force your bulge into his open mouth, thumb keeping his mouth open and from biting down. He seems to try and use his tongue to force you out of his mouth but your bulge is a bigger muscle and simply wraps around it as if it were another bulge.

You exhale as he moves his tongue away from your bulge, stroking it in the process. You coil into a knot in his mouth, somehow forcing it open even more, which, you know must hurt since your pet has squeezed his eyes shut.

You let yourself uncoil to slide out of his mouth a bit, so he can breath better, of course, not because his blunt teeth were starting to irritate you, no. Your pet starts to slowly pull away from you, maybe thinking you got all you wanted. But you won't let him have the satisfaction of even thinking of knowing what you want.

The hand in his bangs releases and quickly goes to the back of his head, pushes him back onto your bulge, and you feel your bulge slide down the back of his throat. He gags and, oh god, that has to be the hottest sound you have ever heard. It even comes with some tears, how delightful.

It’s enough to send you over the edge and with already being almost halfway down his throat your genetic material has nowhere else to go, your pet is forced is forced to swallow.

When you are done, his face is stained with tears, your natural lubricant drips from his chin when you sheath your bulge, making him look like a bloodthirsty beast, which, you think is almost fitting for you.

A thought flashes in your mind for a second and you clear your throat. “You have a name, don’t you?”

He nods and responds, “Dave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos, comments?


End file.
